


Set Phasers to 'Fuck'

by konokomi



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, Chatlogs, Gen, M/M, if you look close enough it's vaguely a star trek au without any of the actual star trek parts, past kuroyaku, with some cowboy bebop and space dandy thrown in for flavoring
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-21 04:14:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10677468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/konokomi/pseuds/konokomi
Summary: Kuroo spends his days as a glorified errand boy for anyone in the galaxy with a need to fill and a checkbook, but every so often he gets the chance to be the bounty hunter he likes to tout himself as. When a bounty proves too much for him to take care of by himself, he's forced to enlist the help of his self-proclaimed sworn enemy to take them down.As if he didn't have enough problems trying to raise his not-son and deal with his smartass best friend already.





	Set Phasers to 'Fuck'

**Author's Note:**

> please don't take any of this seriously and have fun bc i sure as hell am
> 
>  
> 
> [tumblr](http://guyfierimpreg.tumblr.com/) | [twitter](http://twitter.com/hanabrosa/)

The plan was simple: trade the Jewel of Catharsis that Kuroo had found on some garbage planet in a garbage solar system that was, quite literally, in the garbage, for a certain special gear that could only be found in the X-00283 quadrant on X-00283-1-F in the hands of a very notorious space criminal (that, honestly, Kuroo would have loved to arrest but she didn’t have a current bounty out on her. Damn) that a mechanic on Oolbok needed to repair a ship that belonged to some fancy-pants intergalactic diplomat, so that Ghilberghin (said diplomat, and _boy_ was _that_ guy a piece of work) could make a few space phone calls to his space contacts to clear a frankly _bullshit_ parking ticket Kuroo got while stranded on Fvixnir after getting his gas tank tapped by some shitty local alien teenagers.

“Boss,” Shibayama had said as Kuroo parallel parked the ship with master precision (and only scraped the ship behind him a little), “I don’t have a very good feeling about this.”

To which Kuroo had replied, “You’re like 12,” and that was that.

Now, the only reason Kuroo had happened upon the Jewel in the first place was because he needed something else on the garbage planet in the garbage solar system (that was quite literally named G4-R84G-3, and amused Kuroo to no end) for another long string of what felt like his daily life as a side quest errand boy. If not for the parking ticket, he wouldn’t be wasting time in X-00283 anyway, because he almost lost his life in a poker game on X-00283-2-G once in a very unfair game that he didn’t catch all the rules of. To make matters worse and rub a little salt in the wound, in order to _get_ the stupid gear, he had to play nice with Vinnia Kattervauhl, and pretend like she hadn’t made an absolute fool of him six years prior and escaped.

Vinnia was a cool eight and a half feet tall, with jewels and precious metals from across the galaxy adorning all four of her arms. She had a weak spot for shiny things and cared little from whom she stole, which was half the reason Kuroo hated so much that she didn’t have a current bounty on her head— out of the “goodness of her heart,” that Kuroo still insisted she lacked altogether, she managed to help out a very powerful dignitary and was given conditional immunity for a set length of time.

The worst thing about her though, hands down, was how uncomfortably attracted to Kuroo she was.

They had breezed past her security guards (all four of them reaching upwards of 12 feet, still rather short for Somvosions) most likely at Vinnia’s own request, and once they had been escorted into the main living area of her military grade fortified hideout, Kuroo’s hand had immediately moved to cover Shibayama’s eyes.

“I’ve been expecting you,” Vinnia had said, voice like melted butter and dressed in perhaps the skimpiest lingerie Kuroo had ever seen. “I was expecting you to be alone, but I don’t mind an audience.”

Kuroo had spun Shibayama around and whipped off his jacket before throwing it at Vinnia and hitting her smack dab in the face. “Just put the damn jacket on, Kattervauhl.”

Several uncomfortable minutes later (“It’s too hot to wear a jacket. I’m a lady, you know.” “Yeah, and Yuuki doesn’t need to be seeing your lady bits while we’re trying to talk business.” “I’m old enough to look at boobs.” “No you’re not.” “I’m 16.” “And I’m legally your father in this quadrant so I say you’re not.”), Vinnia had begrudgingly put on the jacket (which was far too big for Kuroo to begin with but fit her nearly perfectly, aside from having to cross her second pair of arms underneath it) and ordered one of her bodyguards to bring tea.

“So,” she’d said between sips of tea, “you brought it, I assume?”

“I’m a lot of things, Vinnia, but stupid isn’t one of them. I also don’t like to fashion myself a liar.” He then reached into his bag and pulled out a large paper-wrapped lump of something and held it up. “Legend has it that anyone who looks at it too long feels an uncontrollable and unstoppable urge to purge their strongest of emotions, so I keep it wrapped up. Can’t imagine what kind of nefarious purposes you have for it.”

“I’ll have you know that I’m making an honest woman of myself these days.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Kuroo had quipped back, putting a hand over the top of the cup as Shibayama raised it to his lips. Shibayama frowned. “Anyway, I wanted to discuss the terms of the barter with you.”

“...discuss?”

And that was when everything went to shit.

* * *

“Hey, boss?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, we’ve been working together for a while now, and I was hoping that I could… offer some suggestions for future jobs?”

“I like to foster an environment of open communication. Go for it.”

“For starters,” Shibayama said, cranking the switch to recharge his photon pistol and continuing to fire from over Kuroo’s shoulder, supported only by Kuroo holding his legs with one arm and faith in God, “maybe you should stop trying to renegotiate deals on the spot when the clients have guns.”

It was a fair point, all things considered. Kuroo had been hoping to get a little something _extra_ out of Vinnia in exchange for the Jewel of Catharsis without the unfortunate side effect of several very large, very armed men chasing them through the town bazaar again.

(They were informed by one of the local authorities on Rotol that they were no longer welcome within three planets in any direction, which was a damn shame because Rotol was known for having the fluffiest cat-like creatures in the entire Monobian system.)

“I was hoping she’d give me back the CD she stole from me last time I saw her, but apparently she’s such a snake that that’s impossible for her.”

“That band is like 400 years old.”

“I don’t pay you to hear your opinions on my music taste, I pay you to shoot things.”

“You don’t pay me at all.”

“It’s no use getting into the specifics,” Kuroo said, raising his wrist communicator to his face and tapping the button on the side with his chin to call back to the ship. He sidestepped to the left to avoid getting hit by a photon beam as Shibayama kept firing and waited for Kenma to answer the goddamn phone.

His prayer was finally answered when a tired voice came through and said, “What do you want, Kuro?”

“I sure hope I didn’t _inconvenience_ you or anything. You sound like you were pretty busy.”

“And _you_ sound like you’re getting shot at again. This is the third time this month. One of these days you’re actually going to _die_ , or something.”

“It’s okay, I’ve got his back,” Shibayama shouted from over Kuroo’s shoulder, recharging his pistol again.

“See?” said Kuroo, cheeky. “It’s all good. Anyway, start the ship.”

“I’m busy.”

“Kenma.”

Shibayama took out seven men in a row with flawless precision in the time it took Kenma to sigh and say, “I guess this level can wait. Where do you want the ship? Leave it here or bring it to your location?”

“Let’s think about that one for a moment,” Kuroo replied, rounding a corner and nearly crashing into a tiny street merchant and a few bazaar patrons. “Do I want you to leave the ship where it is so I can continue to run for my life carrying Yuuki in order to meet up with you, or do I want you to bring the ship here so we run a better chance of not getting shot? Decisions.”

“I’ll triangulate your location now. You have to hold still for a bit for me to do it, though. Try not to get shot.”

“Your concern for my well-being touches the bowels of my soul.”

“Don’t say bowels ever again. Now stay put.”

To say that Kuroo trusted Kenma was an understatement. He was far from Kuroo’s first friend, but undoubtedly his _best_ friend, no matter how much they squabbled and bickered and threw insults at each other on a daily basis. Nearly 20 years of friendship gave to them an understanding between them that could never be broken.

Not that it really made Kuroo feel any better about being shot at.

He put his free hand on the wall and flung himself and Shibayama into an alleyway, watching as the goons following them passed by without noticing. As he took a breath to calm himself and set Shibayama back down onto his own feet, his wrist communicator beeped twice to indicate he had two notifications.

The first was welcome:

> Kenma: I’ve got your location.

The second was much less welcome:

> Asshole: lmao you’re on the intergalactic news again  
>  Asshole: who did u piss off this time

Now, to clear up any misinformation that might arise, it’s best to stop and take a minute to discuss Kuroo as a person. A graduate of Starfleet Academy, Tetsurou Kuroo made waves as a very likely pick to serve his time on the most notorious ship in the fleet. Somewhere along the line, he decided that, while science still brought him joy, he wanted to do something different with his life. In an unrelated string of events that involved his mother and a spoiled peanut butter and space jelly sandwich, he chose to become a bounty hunter and clean up the ‘streets’ of the galaxy and beyond.

When all was said and done, anyone you asked would tell you that Kuroo was an incredibly competent and compassionate person, able to make split second decisions when split seconds counted. While his streak of capturing bounties wasn’t the best, he had a handful of commendations from incredibly important galactic figures he managed to help out in the process of royally sucking at his chosen profession. Many considered him to be mature and reliable. A true big brother-type.

Unfortunately, that all went out the fucking window when Daishou got involved.

The simple solution to everything was just to not engage him, but Kuroo had never been one for ignoring a challenge, however implied it may have been.

> Kuroo: Don’t you have some ass to kiss somewhere?  
>  Asshole: nah i already filled my quota for today  
>  Asshole: so which space criminal did you double cross? helbar?  
>  Kuroo: None of your business.  
>  Asshole: oh my god  
>  Asshole: it was vinnia wasn’t it  
>  Asshole: no wonder there’s a fuckin mob of giant guys with guns chasing you  
>  Asshole: someone already edited the video and set it to nightcore  
>  Asshole: it’s got 50k views  
>  Kuroo: First off, shut up.  
>  Kuroo: Second, shut up.  
>  Kuroo: And third,
> 
> Asshole has been blocked!

“Is it Daishou again?” asked Shibayama.

“How did you know?”

“Your eye is twitching.”

Kuroo waved him off with a hand and said, “Don’t worry about it, kid. Anyway, let’s just lay low here until Kenma comes and gets us, since it seems like we lost them.”

“‘Ey, over here! I found ‘em!”

Shibayama looked at Kuroo expectantly, and Kuroo dragged his hands down his face. “Never mind. Get ready to run.”

> Kuroo: Could use some directions, buddy.  
>  Kenma: Head out the back side of the alley and take a left.

“Alright, let’s get the hell out of here,” Kuroo said, grabbing Shibayama by the wrist and yanking him forward before pushing on his back. “Head straight and take a left. Kenma’s giving us directions.”

“You sure you don’t need me to shoot while you run, boss?”

He grabbed the photon gun from the holster on Shibayama’s hip as they ran and switched it from ‘fatal’ to ‘incapacitate’ before charging it up, swerving to avoid hitting a mother and her seventeen hatchlings. “I think I can handle this.”

> Kenma: Turn right up ahead.

As Kuroo rounded the corner, following Shibayama closely, he turned around and held out the gun, getting a goon in his sights and firing.

“Augh!”

“Whoops,” Kuroo said, catching a glimpse of the random market patron he’d managed to hit instead falling to the ground in pain as the marketplace disappeared behind the corner of the building.

> Kenma: Nice aim, Kuro.  
>  Kenma: Left, then left again.

Two lefts later and finally, _finally_ Kuroo could see his beloved _Gilgamesh_ heading toward them above the buildings of the inner city. It was truly his pride and joy, built back up from the ground with his own two hands and restored to its former glory after he found it in a junkyard when he was 16 and fell in love with it.

It was an impressive vessel, painted head to toe in a dark burgundy, the bottom of it covered in countless glass-coated pressed silica sand tiles ranging from dark grey to black in color. In calligraphy on the side of the outer hull, Kuroo had hand-painted _Gilgamesh_ with a can of gold leaf he’d managed to dig out of the junkyard. He’d probably die for his goddamn ship and not feel a lick of regret for it.

Good thing dying wasn’t in the day’s plans.

“Kenma, you magnificent bastard,” he said into his communicator as he and Shibayama headed toward the open park area for Kenma to land the ship. “I knew I could count on you.”

Kenma’s tired voice answered with a sigh and a, “The alternative was dying, so you really had no choice. I’m dropping the starboard walkway and laying cover fire. Try not to get hit.”

As it turned out, Kenma’s aim was far superior to Kuroo’s which, all things considered, wasn’t that hard of a bar to exceed, because a one-eyed chimpanzee having a seizure could still hit a target with a better chance than Kuroo. He ducked under the barrage of lasers with Shibayama and they both made their way to the walkway, hustling inside the ship to sweet, sweet safety. Once the airlock was secured, Kuroo made a beeline for the bridge.

The familiar lights and soft machine humming of _Gilgamesh_ ’s bridge were a comfort to Kuroo, and he couldn’t help but give into the small smile settling in on his lips. After so long, it was home, and Kuroo ran his hand over the control panel as he sat down in his chair.

Next to the control panel, a small monitor blinked to life, the chrome-plated ‘Kaltenecker Navigation Mk. IV’ adorning the frame reflecting the lights around it. A small, thin line appeared on the screen and Kuroo said, “Good to see you, Kenma.”

“Stop pissing off wanted criminals,” Kenma replied, the line peaking and valleying as he spoke, his tone even but with an underlying sense of relief. “You’re lucky Vinnia didn’t gut you herself right there.”

“She wants to bed me too much to do that,” Kuroo said with half a shrug, then flipped a few switches and adjusted the steering joystick. “Let’s get the hell off this planet, shall we? Yuuki, man the guns just in case.”

Shibayama gave a snappy salute. “Sure thing, boss!” he said, taking the chair on the port side of the bridge and strapping himself in.

Kuroo secured his own seatbelt and powered up the engines to full blast, tilting the nose of the ship up at a higher angle to ensure the easiest ascent. “Alright. What’s our next stop, Kenma?”

“A new bounty was just posted. Wanted for high-profile crimes against several different galactic federations. Ten million grulbens, dead or alive. Last known location was a planet over in the Landian system, but nobody has a decent picture. I’ll pull up the best one the authorities have.”

As far as pictures went, it wasn’t much of one. Kuroo could just barely make out the approximate build (about 190cm, maybe 72kg tops) and hair color (stark fucking red), but beyond that he couldn’t see much else. He tapped a button on the screen and printed out a copy, holding it up closer to his face.

“I’ve seen clearer pictures of Nessie,” he said, squinting. “So we’re chasing a cryptid. Alright. Plot us a course to the Landian system. We’ve got some money to make.”


End file.
